Temper×Temper

{Unspoken Words}

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of another grueling day at U.A. High, students began to shuffle out of the classroom, eager to leave behind the day's challenges. Bakugo lingered at his desk, his fingers drumming an impatient rhythm on the wood, his mind still wrestling with the turmoil within.

Nozomi, her bag slung over her shoulder, took a deep breath before making her way to where Bakugo sat. She paused beside his desk, her presence a silent question.

"Bakugo," she said, her voice steady but gentle. "Can we talk?"

Bakugo's drumming stopped, and he looked up, his expression guarded. "What about?" he asked, his tone gruff.

"It's about yesterday," Nozomi began, her eyes searching his. "You've been acting different, and I'm worried. Did I do something wrong?"

Bakugo's jaw clenched, the words he had rehearsed so many times suddenly lodged in his throat. *Just tell her it's nothing. That you don't care.*

"No, you didn't do anything," he said finally, the lie tasting like ash. "I've just got a lot on my mind."

Nozomi nodded, though the concern didn't leave her eyes. "If you ever want to talk, or if there's anything I can do to help, just let me know, okay?"

Bakugo looked away, a part of him wanting to reach out, to confess everything. But the fear held him back, kept him silent.

"Yeah, sure," he muttered, standing up abruptly. "I've got to go."

As he brushed past her, Nozomi's hand touched his arm briefly, a fleeting connection that made his heart stutter. "Take care, Bakugo," she said softly.

Bakugo didn't look back as he left the classroom, the weight of Nozomi's words—and his own unspoken ones—settling heavily on his shoulders.